


you can have Manhattan 'cause I can't have you

by catnipevergreen



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:12:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1672571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catnipevergreen/pseuds/catnipevergreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>You can have Manhattan</i><br/>I know it’s for the best<br/>I’ll gather up the avenues<br/>And leave them on your doorstep<br/>And I’ll tip toe away<br/>So you won’t have to say<br/>You heard me leave</p>
            </blockquote>





	you can have Manhattan 'cause I can't have you

**Author's Note:**

> I heard this song and had some feelings.

_You can have Manhattan_  
 _I know it’s for the best_  
 _I’ll gather up the avenues_  
 _And leave them on your doorstep_  
 _And I’ll tip toe away_  
 _So you won’t have to say_  
 _You heard me leave_

Cassie packs her bags in the middle of the night and leaves before dawn. She knows from experience Rachel won’t return before at least 12 hours after storming out, but her heart still jumps at every creaking pipe as she piles chemises and leotards that smell of Rachel into her suitcases.

(She’s always been a coward. That’s what her father said.)

She briefly considers leaving a note, and almost laughs at herself. How best to sign off the end of the last five years of her life? A small heart, see you never babe. The sight of the empty kitchen counter aches as she drags her luggage past it - “Communication is important, Cassie; how else will you know if I’ve been dragged out to a last minute dinner with producers?”.

She thinks she might be sick.

A floorboard creeks somewhere in the distance, and her heart stops; but nothing. Cassie tightens the grip on her suitcase and lifts her chin, as if she’s about to face the familiar onslaught of reporters demanding why the former prima donna is ensnaring the new young upstart on Broadway.

*

_You can have Manhattan_  
 _I know it’s what you want_  
 _The bustle and the buildings_  
 _The weather in the fall_  
 _And I’ll bow out of place_  
 _To save you some space_  
 _For somebody new_

Rachel erupts into cackles of laughter as she showers Cassie with golden leaves.

“Schwimmer!” shrieks Cassie, as she tries to shake bits of crispy, dead nature from her hair. Rachel’s backing away from her, still giggling madly as she dances in the leaves, tousling them through the air with her feet.

She looks so free.

(Cassie is constantly amazed at how she does it, shaking off the permanent stresses of stardom so she can give them little private, perfect moments like this.

Maybe she’s a better actress than Cassie can imagine; but if she was, how could she so artfully drag Cassie into this careless freedom with her?)

“I love the fall,” Rachel sighs as she twirls under a tree. Cassie catches her, and Rachel starts as she’s pulled into Cassie’s arms. She beams up at her.

“You can take the Iowa out of the girl…” Cassie murmurs teasingly, and Rachel rolls her eyes, poking out her tongue.

“We’re a long way from Kansas now,” she retorts.

When Cassie kisses her, she tastes of coffee and Chanel lipstick and home, and Cassie doesn’t for a moment hear the click of a camera.

*

_You can have Manhattan_  
 _The one we used to share_  
 _The one where we were laughing_  
 _And drunk on just being there_  
 _Hang on to the reverie_  
 _Could you do that for me?_  
 _Cause I’m just too sad to_

They’re sitting on the roof of Cassie’s building, nursing Cosmos with pashminas thrown over their shoulders in the light evening breeze. The sun set hours ago, but the city’s still glowing orange, and the night feels young. There’s no parties or ceremonies or premieres and maybe that’s why Cassie can feel the buzz of the city vibrating so much stronger than she has in - she doesn’t think about it. She doesn’t want to scare it away.

“Honestly Schwim, I thought she was going to crack a goddamn glass,” Cassie says darkly, smirking through her snark as Rachel snorts with laughter. “And her turn out…”

“Do you even want an understudy?” asks Rachel liltingly. “Because I feel like maybe this is a slight exaggeration. Maybe you’re just a little bit reluctant to let go of power…”

Cassie’s eyes widen in indignation as Rachel leans forward with a teasing grin.

“I don’t think you can handle the competition,” Rachel finishes, tongue between her lips.

“Are you going to prove that to me?” Cassie says darkly, and god it’s not even her ego it’s just that pink alcohol is still glistening on Rachel’s lips and her voice has dropped an octave. Rachel holds her gaze for a second longer, before she reaches over and grabs the tequila bottle.

“First one to crack gets tied up,” Rachel tells her heavily.

“Oh now,” replies Cassie, taking the bottle. “You don’t even make me want to win.”

 

*

_And so it goes_  
 _One foot after the other_  
 _Til black and white begin to color in_  
 _And I know_  
 _That holding us in place_  
 _Is simply fear of what’s already changed_

Rachel’s shaking with frustration. They’re so beyond finding any middle ground, Cassie doesn’t even have the energy to fight anymore - not with Rachel, she’s not fighting with her, she’s fighting for her to understand Cassie’s point of view. She has to understand what Rachel just fundamentally cannot see - and maybe she’s never seen.

(There’s a gaping ravine appearing between them and all she can do is watch their relationship fall into it.)

Cassie freezes up.

She’s sitting completely still on the couch as Rachel paces, desperately trying to find words to fix something that was broken long before Rachel appeared in a NYADA studio.

“You know I really fucking thought…” Rachel spits, the curse sounding ugly and contorted from her mouth, “I really thought being a selfish, self-destructive idiot.”

Rachel sets it up; she gives Cassie the moment to cut and run right then and there.

“Well, I guess you’ve still got a hell of a lot of growing up to do then, Schwimmer.”

 

*

_You can have Manhattan_  
 _I’ll settle for the beach_  
 _And sunsets facing westward_  
 _With sand beneath my feet_  
 _I’ll wish this away_  
 _Just missing the days_  
 _When I was one half of two_  
 _You can have Manhattan_  
 _Cause I can’t have you_

It’s 11pm on a breezy Winter evening, and Santa Monica beach is quiet as Cassie strolls along the boardwalk. The wind catches in her hair and she shivers. The temperature never drops below that of a Manhattan spring; but she’s always cold now.

She passes a news vendor, and her eyes run along the rows of magazines out of habit. Her breath catches in her throat for a moment; but nothing. No scandal. Just beaming pictures of Rachel alongside her cast mates at the Tony’s, gazing cooly at the camera with a smile barely tugging at her lips.

(She’s hiding a secret. Cassie pretends she doesn’t know which one.)

She turns away and makes her way towards the sea, and suddenly she can see Rachel’s smiling face in her eyes; she looks down to her right and instinctively reaches out her hand, but all it grasps is wind. Her chest contracts, but she’s alone on the beach and the sea is spraying lighting against her, so she lets herself stare a little longer at her hand, and wonder what it’s partner is doing on the other side of the world.


End file.
